Categories
food

Village Links of Glen Ellyn

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Have you ever seen such a thing of beauty? It’s a bratwurst next to a sleeve of Callaway HX Tour 56 golf balls. It’s becoming abundantly clear that I’m an artist. We’ll talk about the bratwurst in a few moments, but I want to talk about something else first. Lately so many of my fans have asked, “John, how do you stage your beautiful pictures of food? Your composition and balance are always so perfect, bringing in elements of the surroundings that make the food look even more flavorful.”

Hey, thanks a lot.

Well, my theory is that the setting in which you consume food is very important to the enjoyment of said food. Sure, I could eat a cold bratwurst while standing alone next to my car in a barren parking lot during a freezing cold day and still enjoy it. But let me paint a different picture for you. I pull up to one of my favorite golf courses in the world on a beautiful summer day and I’m really hungry – with about 45 minutes to kill. Enter a fresh sleeve of Callaway golf balls and a nice blue mini Sharpie, perfect for putting my personal mark on each ball. Throw in the comfortable cushion of a golf cart, a Gatorade, and two Advil. That, my friends, is called relaxation. Doesn’t this picture just scream the “perfect atmosphere for eating brats?” Isn’t your mouth watering for the taste of a fine encased meat?

I’m with you. Good call.

Notice the lightness of color in this brat. Growing up, brats were always the “white hotdog.” I was sort of afraid of them. But then I tried one and I was smitten. My dad owned a grocery store for most of my developmental years and I remember when the guys in the meat department would wrap the brats in foil and warm them up on the heated meat-wrapper contraption. Wow, memories.

The multi-meat aspect of the brat is probably what gives it the color. It seems that they often have some veal and/or pork in them, so that differentiates them color-wise from the standard all beef hotdog that Chicagoans find so delectable. But I think the sausage-like texture and the spicier flavor make the brat a more enjoyable tubular meat for me.

Unfortunately, Village Links kicked me in the teeth this day and I barely survived. It’s a great golf course though, I still love it and still had a great day.

Categories
books

Purple Cow

I read Godin’s blog regularly and I like his take on things. This book is about creating remarkable products and services. In fact, the subtitle is “Transform Your Business by Being Remarkable.”

According to Godin, we are past the age of the TV-industrial complex. This is Godin’s term for the “symbiotic relationship between consumer demand, TV advertising, and ever-growing companies that were built around investments in ever-increasing marketing expenditures.”

You can’t win this way any longer. We are too smart to be fooled by advertising nowadays. You have to be better at marketing than thinking of catchy slogans or funny commercials. Godin’s solution is to do some remarkable marketing. That is “the art of building things worth noticing right into your product or service. Not slapping on marketing as a last-minute add-on, but understanding that if your offering itself isn’t remarkable, it’s invisible.”

So he has 145 pages in a sort of stream-of-consciousness presentation of how to do remarkable things. I learned a lot of very useful concepts from it.

One great concept that he brings up often is that of otaku. It’s a Japanese word that’s used to describe something that is “more than a hobby but a little less than an obsession.” He gives examples, but for me, otaku is getting up at 4:30am and driving two and a half hours into Wisconsin to play a golf course that I heard was something special and driving back the same day. This is not obsessive, but it does show a keen appreciation for the game of golf. I have golf otaku. About this, Godin says:

Consumers with otaku are the sneezers you seek. They’re the ones who will take the time to learn about your product, take the risk to try your product, and take their friends’ time to tell them about it. The flash of insight is that some markets have more otaku-stricken consumers than others. The task of the remarkable marketer is to identify these markets and focus on them to the exclusion of lesser markets – regardless of relative size.

Ahh, I like otaku. I think I need to make it a regular part of my vocabulary. It ranks up there with another fine Japanese phrase; hara hachi bu, which means “eat only until you are 80% full.” That’s from Okinawa. I’m also a heavy user of Mizuno products. I need to make a visit to Japan because I think I would fit in well there. But I digress.

Godin has case studies and examples to illustrate all of his points. Sometimes he treads dangerously close to oversimplification and hyperbole. He says things like it’s “so popular, no one goes there anymore.” Or “marketers no longer: now we’re designers.” He does back these up though with examples and thoughtful discussion so you can filter out his bias and get the point.

I thought it was a great book and a ton of fun to read. I strongly suggest that you at least subscribe to his blog, if you don’t buy one of his books, so you can get a feel for how he thinks through things. He is certainly a thought leader in the the area of marketing.

I’m gong to finish this take with one of the last paragraphs in his book. He says:

Remember, it’s not about being weird. It’s about being irresistible to a tiny group of easily reached sneezers with otaku. Irresistible isn’t the same a ridiculous. Irresistible (for the right niche) is just remarkable.

I don’t know, with my web presence, I wonder if I’m thought of as weird. What’s that damn fool finance guy doing writing about food, books, golf, and weight loss? Eventually, I will pour out my takes on finance and controllership at my consulting site, but first, I have a lot of stuff to get off my chest.

Categories
food

D’Amato’s Bakery

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Sometimes, a savvy restaurateur will fill a starchy thing with something oddly delectable. Take, for example, the Buffao Chicken Spring Roll from Carmichael’s; a fine but unexpected combination. Well, let me follow that up with this little treat. I’m not sure what it’s called exactly, but it’s basically a standard sandwich bun filled with chocolate chip cannoli filling and a little powdered sugar on top.

Yeah, they just pumped a burger bun full of dense, sweet, creamy, chocolate chip cannoli filling and made my friggin’ day. They, is D’Amato’s, at 1124 West Grand. Which is not to be confused with the D’Amato’s at 1322 West Grand. I don’t know if they’re related or not (read the reviews at the links for some takes on this).

D’Amato’s is not the kind of bakery I grew up with. In my hometown, a bakery meant donuts and cinnamon rolls. Sure, you could get a fresh loaf of white bread and maybe some cookies, but for the most part, BAKERY = DONUT.

But there aren’t really any donuts here at D’Amato’s. There are all sorts of fresh breads, buns, rolls, and tons of cookies. I walked in and was prepared to get some sort of mini-loaf of bread for breakfast, then I spied these bun-type things setting on the counter. If you’re a bakery owner and you want to lure John Steffen into purchasing your goods, just set them on the counter in an open-air type of situation. That says FRESH to me. It says, “Hey John, we just took these out of the oven and they’re so damn hot they will fog up the windows in the display case so we just set them on the counter for now. Do you want one?”

Ahh, yes, thanks (suckerrrrrr).

I enjoyed this treat with a cup of coffee from the Jupiter Outpost. I would suggest using a knife to spread the filling around a little as you eat it; like any stuffed pastry, it’s never uniformly spread throughout. Not a problem though. Some day, I’m going to stop by D’Amato’s and get some bread for a sandwich, then run down to Bari and grab some meet and cheese to fill it with.

Categories
food

Amelia’s

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I love Mexican food, but I haven’t really reviewed any basic Mexican items. I have posts on Tex-Mex and Nuevo Latino cuisine, but this is the first on standard Mexican fare. Very few things comfort me as much as a plate full of enchiladas, beans, rice, and some greens. My range of satisfaction on this type of meal is huge. And if you throw in a nice outdoor patio and relatively uniform application of sour cream, you can’t go wrong.

Amelia’s is located at 1235 W. Grand, right at the corner of Grand and Ogden. If the continuum of Mexican food in Chicago ranged from Taco Bell on the low end to Topolobampo on the high end, Amelia’s would be closer to Taco Bell. In fact, these enchiladas are closer to Taco Bell’s then they are to Uncle Julio’s, which is disappointing for a neighborhood place. So yes, I’m grouping Amelia’s in with the chains.

But the pictured enchilada plate was still darn good. And for some reason, despite the fact that the outdoor patio is at the confluence of two very busy streets, I still like it. I’m not going to go off on this place like the crew at Yelp. Check out some of these reviews. I think they’re a little harsh. I tune out people that say, “Oh, that’s not real Mexican, it sucks.” Well, what do you expect, Mexico is like 1,500 miles away. Much of that culinary knowledge gets lost along the way. It’s part of living in the USA, you have to accept the fact that we’re going to mess up ethnic foods about 74% of the time.

Sure, there are many authentic places in Chicago, like the aforementioned Topolobampo and, my favorite, Maiz. Go to them. Enjoy them. I will, do, am, is, are… But don’t tell me you haven’t enjoyed bad Mexican food for most of your life. I dare you. Look me in the eye and say “I’ve never had a burrito from Taco Bell that I liked.” You can’t do it. Because when you combine spicy beef, beans, cheese, onions, and red sauce with a flour tortilla, it’s all good my friends.

Categories
food

Homemade Bouillabaisse

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The homemade meal of the month is back, and Gail has outdone herself this time.

I don’t recall it happening, but Gail developed a love for bouillabaisse. She just started liking it right under my nose, before I even figured out what the heck it was. She didn’t even make a big deal out of it, thereby highlighting a fundamental difference between us. I get excited about meaningless things, but Gail takes them in stride. When I discover a new food item that I love, I talk about it all the time. I beat it to death by telling people about it; ranting and raving like some lunatic who just discovered air. I use it as a conversation starter. I call friends and family and talk about it (eventually they just quit answering the phone). I have issues, I know this.

On the other hand, Gail acts like she discovers exotic new dishes all the time. She’s like the football player who scores a touchdown and hands the ball to the ref without any celebration, because he’s been there, done that. She tries something new, likes how it tastes, and starts ordering it whenever she gets a chance. She never talks much about it, her actions speak louder than words. Then, she starts making it. Then, she starts making derivations of it, like this dish. It’s a bouillabaisse type of stew poured over a baked snapper filet with brown rice.

Like I said, Gail has outdone herself on this dish. She takes vegetable stock and tosses in some onions, leeks, tomatoes, fennel, saffron, other spices, and lots of Pernod. It’s simple, but special. She usually serves bouillabaisse with some crusty bread for dipping, but that’s not necessary here because she has thrown in the brown rice as the starch. The anise flavored Pernod and the saffron make this a distinctive combination. It’s so complicated, I can’t even explain it.

Although I’m not a big fan of black liquorice, I do love anise flavored stuff. I get my anise from two places, from Gail’s bouillabaisse-type dishes and from my mom’s Christmas cookies. Yeah, my mom adds anise to her Christmas cutout cookies. Wow, those are good. Don’t worry mom, I’ve already reserved the December 2007 homemade meal feature for your Christmas cookies.

Categories
books

The Kite Runner

Did you ever finish a book in one day? My wife does it all the time but I rarely do. I know I’ve done it before, but I can’t recall the last book I did it with. It happened just the other day though. On Saturday, I got up, started reading The Kite Runner, and was done by the time I sat down for dinner. I was on vacation, so that made it easier. But even if it had been just a regular Saturday at home, this still might have happened. I just got sucked in and I couldn’t put it down.

It’s the story of a man named Amir, a man with demons – demons that weighed on him beginning at age 12. Amir grew up in a wealthy Kabul neighborhood in the late sixties and early seventies. His childhood was relatively normal except that his best friend was Hassan, the son of the family servant. It was uncommon for a rich kid in Afghanistan to become such close friends with the family servant, even more uncommon considering that each of them came from different Islamic denominations, Amir is a Sunni and Hassan is a Shi’a. This book is a first person narrative from the point of view Amir. It’s the story of his life.

That’s all I’m going to tell you. Often, with classic lit, I’ll reveal some plot killers for sake of discussion, but this isn’t classic lit. This book is current and you owe it to yourself to read it. I’m not messing around, you have to read it. You see people reading it in airports all the time. There’s a reason for that, it’s a great book. Stop wondering what the book is about and read it.

It’s written in plain, simple language and it’s a fast read. It will grab you from the beginning and you won’t be bored for a moment. I’m sure you know someone who’s read it, just borrow it. Or you can usually pick it up in the three-for-the-price-of-two rack at Borders. Just frickin’ read it, dude.

Categories
books

The Pearl

This was quite an emotional rollercoaster packed into a small book. Steinbeck crammed a lot of life into a mere 118 pages. I came across this book when I was at home a few weekends ago. The Pearl, in tattered old paperback form, was sitting on the family room coffee table. My mom was reading it. I asked her how the book was and she said something like, “It’s good, but kind of depressing.”

Ahh, I love classic lit that’s short and “kind of depressing.” It’s right in my wheelhouse – reference Where Angels Fear to Tread.

WARNING: PLOT KILLERS FOLLOW

This is the story of Kino, an impoverished pearl diver living near a small coastal town in Bolivia. His home is a grass shack, which he shares with his wife Juana and newborn son Coyotito.

Good people, these. Kino appreciates the small things in life, like the morning sun and the sound of his baby awakening. They fill him with joy. Sure, his life could be better if he had a little more disposable income. In fact, it would allow him to afford a doctor to treat the nasty scorpion bite on his son’s shoulder. Other than that, he seems to be doing okay with what he has.

Then, shortly after the obese town doctor rejects Kino’s request to assist his ailing son, Kino finds a massive pearl during his first dive of the day. He screams out in victory at its discovery, and the fortunes of Kino and the small town surrounding him change forever. About the town, Steinbeck says:

The news stirred up something infinitely black and evil in the town; the black distillate was like the scorpion, or like hunger in the smell of food, or like loneliness when love is withheld. The poison sacs of the town began to manufacture venom, and the town swelled and puffed with the pressure of it.

But that only describes how the town changed with news of the pearl. The changes in Kino were just as riveting. When asked what he plans to do with all of the riches bestowed upon him by the pearl, he speaks of getting a proper wedding and making sure that his son can read. And lastly, he says that he wants to buy a rifle. Steinbeck explores the rifle:

It was the rifle that broke down the barriers. This was an impossibility, and if he could think of having a rifle whole horizons were burst and he could rush on. For it is said that humans are never satisfied, that you give them one thing and they want something more. And this is said in disparagement, whereas it is one of the greatest talents the species has and one that has made it superior to animals that are satisfied with what they have.

These two passages occur early on and the sense of doom never leaves you. The rest of the book is an exploration of how a man can change when one moment he is poor and the next moment he is rich. Steinbeck’s study is gender specific to the man. The only significant digression into how his wife Juana is dealing with the situation occurs after she is beaten by Kino when he finds her attempting to throw the pearl back into the sea. From the book:

Juana dragged herself up from the rocks on the edge of the water. Her face was a dull pain and her side ached. She steadied herself on her knees for a while and her wet skirt clung to her. There was no anger in her for Kino. He had said, “I am a man,” and that meant certain things to Juana. It meant that he was half insane and half god. It meant that Kino would drive his strength against a mountain and plunge his strength against the sea. Juana, in her woman’s soul, knew that the mountain would stand while the man broke himself; that the sea would surge while the man drowned in it. … Sometimes the quality of a woman, the reason, the caution, the sense of preservation, could cut through Kino’s manness and save them all. She climbed painfully to her feet, and she dipped her cupped palms in the little waves and washed her bruised face with the stinging salt water, and then she went creeping up the beach after Kino.

That’s intense. But nothing compared what’s coming. Juana leaves the beach to find that Kino has killed a man who tried to steal the pearl. With this, they have to flee the town.

Despite all of Kino’s precautions, three men pursue them – a man with a rifle on horseback and two trackers. Kino is boxed into a corner and he figures that his only option is to get his wife and child to higher ground and take the pursuers down.

With his wife and son hiding in close proximity, Kino goes on the attack. In one furious and stunning moment, Kino plunges his knife into the rifleman’s throat, wrests the rifle from his hands, crushes the skull of a second man, and shoots the third man as he is scrambling away. The third man was only injured, so Kino walks up to him and sends a bullet between his eyes. For a brief moment, Kino probably thinks he has triumphed. However, he soon discovers that his shot that winged the third man, also found his son’s skull.

It was a horrible tragedy. In the aftermath, Kino and Juana walk back to town and throw the pearl back into the sea. That’s how it ended.

It makes you think. Am I satisfied with what I have?

Categories
food

Goldyburgers

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I’ve been anticipating Goldyburgers for a long time. There are a few reasons for this.

  1. My bro-in-law, a savvy eater and keen appreciator of the finest cuisine, says it’s great.
  2. It usually ranks high on burger lists. In fact, it gets ranked numero uno (Spanish for #1) by AOL City Guide.
  3. It gets generally good reviews. Check out Centerstage and Yelp. I couldn’t find it on Metromix though. If it’s there, let me know.

So one fine Saturday night, I head out to the Western ‘burbs with my wife and mother-in-law to visit the aforementioned bro-in-law. He suggests heading over to Forest Park and dining at Goldyburgers (7316 Circle Avenue) and gets no argument from me.

It’s all neighborhood pub, make no bones about it. When we walked in, I was a little concerned that my wife and mother-in-law weren’t going to like the atmosphere, but they loved it. And the burgers, well, they rocked.

Pictured above is the patty melt, done medium. It was exceptional. If someone asked me to put together a list, it would be second only Tavish. The best feature of the Goldyburger is probably the burger-to-bun ratio. Look at that picture again, you are witnessing a ratio of probably one to one. They achieve this despite only using a half pound of beef. That’s an impressive feat. Remember, Tavish did it by pushing the size of the burger well past a half pound. Goldyburgers does it by decreasing the circumference of the half-pound of beef and fitting it on to a slightly smaller than average bun (or slice of dark rye).

They executed it just about perfectly. I say “just about” because I don’t think they dropped the patty melt into a buttered skillet. I thought that was standard for a patty pelt, but maybe I’m wr…wro..wrong, although I doubt it. But this did not detract much from my enjoyment. It was a fine conglomeration of beef. I’m guessing it was a combo of ground chuck and ground round. It was juicy and full o’ flavor.

They have a lot of burger options on the menu. Besides the patty melt, our table had the mushroom and Swiss burger and the bleu cheese burger. Everybody at the table was extremely satisfied. They have plenty of beer choices and several wines. It’s a great, friendly neighborhood pub and an absolute must if you consider yourself a burger connoisseur.

Categories
books

The Enemy

I did some air travel earlier this month so I grabbed another Lee Child paperback on my way out the door. All of Child’s books have the same main character (Reacher) and I’m reading them in order. You can read about my last Child experience here.

As you may know, I like to travel with pop-fiction paperbacks like those written by Child, but I also grabbed this because I needed some release from the Barack Obama book that I started mid-June. The Obama book is good, but it’s like work, so I needed some trash fiction to offset it.

Man, it really ended up being a slow reading month. I got about half way through the Obama book and I barely finished this Reacher book before the self-imposed June 30 deadline (for the timestamp on this post). Reading books has taken a back seat to work and summer lately, each of which has diverted my attention from sitting down with a good book.

The Enemy was a departure for Child. It’s set back in time during the early 1990s when Reacher was still an MP. I was expecting just another modern-day thriller. Instead, I got a military thriller set during the fall of the Berlin Wall. There was also a relatively touching side story about Reacher’s dying mother and how Reacher and his brother dealt with it. If you don’t know, Reacher’s brother dies in the very first Reacher book, so this was another curveball.

Child may have some darn good artistic reasons for throwing this out-of-sequence novel at me and I feel bad that I didn’t embrace it. I’m not sure if it was my fault or his fault. I needed something mindless and I just wanted this book to be the “next” story in Reacher’s life. It wasn’t. I got bored. It took forever to read.

I remember when Hillerman broke from his normal genre and wrote Finding Moon. That turned out to be one of my favorites books of all time. Was Finding Moon more compelling than The Enemy? Or did I just read it during a particularly relaxed and focused time? I don’t know. But I do know that I should pay attention to things like this when assessing how much I like a book.

Well, in conclusion, I’m blaming Child for my lack of enjoyment of this book. It was my least favorite Reacher book yet. The evil-doer didn’t give me a particular feeling of trepidation, the mystery felt like a failed attempt at plausibility, and I got this story confused with a back-story from a previous book that featured Reacher recounting a past case. I only recommend this book if you are reading the whole series and are just as neurotic as me when it comes to sticking to the plan.

Categories
food

Jerry’s Sandwiches

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They don’t mess around at Jerry’s Sandwiches. This is the blackened chicken with pepperjack cheese, giardiniera, and lettuce, on white. It was my own “create your own” sandwich.

It’s great food. Stellar sandwiches. I ate this one outside at the 1045 W. Madison location. That’s West Loop, where the cool people hang out. But you don’t have to come all the way to the West Loop because they’re opening one in Wicker Park, where, if you can imagine, even cooler people hang out. There’s probably going to be one of those velvet rope lines and a bouncer out front. I can’t believe what’s happened to that street.

I love blackened anything. They slice the chicken breast in huge, meaty slices and pile it on generously. It was good. The bread was fresh, the lettuce crispy, and the chicken juicy.

Generally, I don’t do the “create your own” option. My theory is that the person who made the menu knows a heck of a lot more about making a sandwich than me, so I usually just order off the menu. But my love for blackened chicken with spicy cheeses and hot veggies overcame my better judgement. If I may say, my own concoction was very good and it wouldn’t surprise me if they put it on the menu permanently and call it the Chicken Fire Mouth Sammy.